


Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight)

by inanoldhouseinparis



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: A little pining, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:59:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25927024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanoldhouseinparis/pseuds/inanoldhouseinparis
Summary: Jaskier never stops moving his mouth. Geralt can't stop looking at it.A Kiss Fic
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 27
Kudos: 242





	Kiss Me (Beneath the Milky Twilight)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Sixpence None the Richer

Jaskier never stops moving his mouth. 

It's his job, Geralt knows, as a bard, to sing, to joke, to flirt, whatever it takes to raise the spirits of the people he's entertaining. Geralt watches his mouth moving, and see how everyone in the room responds to him. Laughing when he jokes, blushing when he flirts, almost enraptured when he sings. He pulls emotion out of his audience with every word, and Geralt is not immune. 

When he gets back to the table and steals Geralt's drink, Geralt can do nothing but watch. He sets the tankard down and licks his lips. "What did you think of my performance? One of my best, I think. What an amazingly responsive crowd." 

"You debuted your new song."

Not a compliment, but as close to one as Geralt dares to get.

"I did! I think it went over rather well. Rather a tragic ending to the real story, but I think bittersweet works better. A noonwraith gets to say goodbye to her love, and can finally go in peace. Enough to make them cry, but not devastated, and... do I have something on my face? You keep staring. Geralt, if you let me perform with a piece of food on my face, I swear to all the gods..."

"No. There's nothing on your face."

Jaskier never stops moving his mouth. He talks and talks, and Geralt watches and listens and can't tear his eyes away.

Even when it's just the two of them, out in the middle of nowhere, Jaskier never stops moving his mouth. He chatters about people he's talked to, plants they pass on the path, and what he wants to eat when they get to the next town. Geralt watches, looking down from Roach as Jaskier chatters or composes, sticking just the tip of his tongue between his lips as he tries to figure out the chord progression of his newest composition. 

It's just a mouth. How can it be so distracting, so endlessly fascinating?

It's evening and Jaskier takes a break from softly playing his lute to eat some berries he foraged before it got dark. Geralt, lounging on a fallen log and utterly relaxed by Jaskier's soft lullaby, watches Jaskier who is eating, sticking the tips of his fingers into his mouth to suck the berry juice off. "What are you looking at?" Jaskier asks. 

Maybe the music has relaxed him too much, maybe the sight of Jaskier's mouth in the firelight has entranced him, but to his horror, Geralt answers honestly. "Your mouth."

Jaskier freezes, the tip of his first finger still on his lips. He pulls it away. "Is there any specific reason you're looking at my mouth?"

Geralt hums, embarrassed, but Jaskier doesn't accept that as a suitable answer. Instead, he raises an eyebrow and tips his head and Geralt begrudgingly answers, "I like to. It looks nice."

"You like to? Do you look at my mouth... often?"

"Maybe," Geralt grumbles, and tips his head and closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look Jaskier in the eye.

"What do you mean it looks nice?"

"Now you're just fishing for compliments. I don't know. It looks pretty. It looks like it's soft. It just looks... nice." 

Geralt just wants this conversation to be over, but he opens his eyes when he hears Jaskier moving towards him. 

"Do you... do you want to touch it? Find out for yourself how soft it is?"

"You're asking if I want to touch your mouth?"

"Yeah. I mean, you can if you want. I wouldn't mind."

Jaskier takes Geralt's hand and lifts it up to his face. "Go ahead."

Geralt runs his thumb gently over Jaskier's bottom lip. It's stained by the berries and very soft. Jaskier opens his mouth slightly, and Geralt presses his thumb, not quite in, but almost. 

"Is it as soft as you thought?"

"Yes." He starts to pull his hand away, but Jaskier catches him by the wrist. 

"Is there anything else you wanted to find out about it?" He licks his lips. "You know how it looks and sounds and feels. Any other senses you'd like to indulge?"

"Yes," Geralt whispers. "Yes." 

He leans forward, but stops himself, leaning his forehead against. Jaskier closes the gap, gently pressing their lips together, only for a second, before pulling back away. "You can kiss me if you want. I _want_ you to kiss me."

Geralt kisses him. 

Geralt kisses him like he's water in a desert, like he's oxygen and Geralt is drowning, like he's the sun after the darkest night. Jaskier tastes like berries, like the roasted rabbit they had for dinner, like happiness and lust, like _Jaskier._ Geralt kisses Jaskier and Jaskier kisses back. 

When they finally separate, Jaskier is breathless and dazed. He leans against Geralt and says "You can kiss me whenever you want. You don't have to hold back."

"I can't," Geralt confesses. Before Jaskier can ask why not, he continues, "I _always_ want to kiss you. I want to kiss you when you're performing and when you're laughing and when you come to my table and steal my drink. I want to kiss you while we're walking and when you grumble in your sleep, and when you're composing and you stick your tongue out because you're concentrating so hard. I always want to kiss you and if I didn't hold back I would never stop."

"So kiss me! Kiss me when I finish performing and come back to the table to steal your drink. Kiss me when I wake up, and when I'm composing and when I'm lying next to you in bed. Kiss me right now. Kiss me under these stars, next to this fire, on top of this bedroll. If you don't want to stop kissing me then _don't_. You can just, you know, take a break for a while to get other things done. Then," he says with a smile, "right back to kissing me."

"Alright," Geralt says as he lays down on his bedroll. "Alright," he said as he pulls Jaskier down beside him. "We can kiss until we need to take a break to sleep. Then in the morning, we can kiss some more."

He takes Jaskier in his arms and presses their lips together. Jaskier's mouth never stops moving, and Geralt has never been more thankful. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic! Let me know if you see any typos because I'm not super great at editing. I hope you like it!  
> <3
> 
> Edit  
> Are you telling me that in twelve hours 420 (lol) people have read my fic? Incredible. I love you all.


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